Need You Now
by therandlehandle
Summary: Steve goes through hell. (Stevepop Story) PROCEED WITH CAUTION. VERY TRIGGERING.
1. 1

"Steve." Steve's mother called from her bedroom.

Steve walked into her bedroom, smiling slightly. "Yeah mom?"

"Come here, please."

He walked over to the side of the bed and his mother weakly grabbed his hand. "You're not in any pain are you?" He asked.

"I'm in a little, but that's what happens when you're dying."

Steve shook his head, frowning. "Mom, you're strong. You're gonna make it through this."

His mother coughed, squeezing his hand. "Listen to me. I may not live much longer. When I pass, I don't want you to mourn me. I want you to live on and remember the happy times we had together." She said quietly.

"Mom..." he sighed, his eyes watering.

"I'm not finished. I'm sorry, I never wanted to leave you so early."

"Don't talk like that! You're not dying! You'll be fine! I can't live without you." He whispered desperately.

"Steve... you have to move on. I'll always be with you, watching over you. I really wish we had more time together." She continued.

"No, mom! Please... I need you." Steve begged, a single tear falling down his cheek.

"Promise me you'll keep on living."

"Mom..."

"Promise me."

"I p-promise."

Steve's mother smiled painfully and closed her eyes, her breaths slowly becoming shallow and less frequent.

"You can let go and rest now. Your fight is over. You were so brave." Steve whispered, unable to stop the tears from falling. He brushed the thin hair out of her pale and hollow face as she took her last breath. "I love you mom."


	2. 2

It was currently 11 pm. Soda had woken up, hearing loud cries coming from the living room. He frowned worriedly and stood up, walking out to investigate. It was pitch black, so he felt around on the wall until he found the light switch. He flipped it on and watched the room brighten, revealing the silhouette of his boyfriend.

Soda had only seen Steve cry a handful of times, but that was enough. Judging by the volume and tone of the cries, Soda knew something was wrong— no, not wrong. Something tragic must have happened. So, not wrong... worse than wrong. "What's wrong?" he whispered groggily, walking behind Steve.

Steve shook his head, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." He apologized, fighting back the rest of his tears.

"It's okay, what's going on?" Soda whispered.

"It's not really a big deal..."

"Steve you're crying. It's a big deal."

Steve sighed deeply, the tears he desperately tried to hold back fell down his face freely. "She's g-gone." He choked out, his eyes glassy and distant.

"Who?" Soda asked, immediately thinking the worst but not wanting to make an assumption.

Steve turned around and looked at Sodapop. "Mom."

"Oh my god, Steve. I'm so sorry." Soda said sympathetically, pulling Steve into a tight hug.

Steve lost it and Soda was surprised nobody else woke up. "She was so young!" he said in between sobs.

Soda honestly didn't know what to say to him. He didn't know how to comfort him. 'Tell him what you wanted to hear when mom and dad died.' He thought. But he didn't know... so he just hugged Steve, deciding that being there for him would have to be enough. "Steve, you don't have to go through this alone. It's really hard finding someone who understands... believe me, I would know. You do have me, and I understand exactly what you're going through. You might not be feeling the same as I did when mom and dad died, but I can still be here for you and support you." he finally said after a few moments.

"What am I supposed to feel?" Steve's voice cracked.

"There's a lot of different things you could feel. Anger, resentment, grief, exhaustion, insecurity, loneliness, emptiness, anxiety, guilt, frustration, bitterness..."

Steve sniffed and wiped his eyes, thinking. "I think I feel... exhausted and heartbroken..." He whispered.

"That's normal."

Steve glanced at the clock and frowned. "I should head home."

Soda nodded softly and kissed Steve's forehead. "Don't hesitate to come over or call me. I don't care what time it is or how busy I am. I'll make time for you."

Steve smiled sadly at Sodapop. "Thanks. Goodnight, Soda."

"Night, Stevie." Soda watched Steve leave, sighing. 'Poor Steve.' He thought as he walked back to bed. He could only hope that Steve would handle it better than he did when his parents died.


End file.
